


Circus of Fear...

by IndigoBloom



Category: Mirrormask (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-30 01:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoBloom/pseuds/IndigoBloom
Summary: Two years after Helena went to, and came back from, the land of Light and Darkness (where the MirrorMask is from), a new problem develops. But, this story is not about her. This story is about a neighbor of hers, who just recently moved into the building. This story is their adventure...





	1. Mirror Image...

"Hold the elevator!" I call as I rush up to the doors of it. The girl inside it already helps me get the doors open, and I step inside. I lean against the back, and take deep breaths. I just ran half a block through the rain.

The girl looks at me, and giggles. I mildly recognize her voice, but I must be mistaken. She has short, brown hair that seems to never want to be neat, and is wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She seem to be about seventeen.

I stand up, and tousle my short, black hair a bit, to get rain out of it. I wait as the elevator doors close and the elevator starts to go up. I stand next the girl, and put my hands in my jean pockets. I'm only wearing a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and my ratty old Converse. I had gone down to the shop to get things for dinner.

The girl keeps glancing over at me. "You just moved into the building, right?" she asks, "I think I live two doors down from where you live,"

I laugh. "Yeah," I say, "I just moved in with my Gram. Do I know you from somewhere else, though?"

She shrugs. "Do you like the circus?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, "I love the circus. Me and my Gram go all the time,"

"Have you ever been to the Campbell Family Circus?" she asks.

"Is that the one with the two jugglers," I ask, "one a man, the other a young girl, and the man wants to juggle bananas, but the girl says no because if you juggle bananas you get gorillas, and then a gorilla comes out and starts messing around, and the jugglers chase it around?"

The girl laughs. "Did you say all that on one breath?" she asks, "And yeah, that's the one,"

"I love that circus," I say, "My Gram really enjoys the gorilla, and how talented the young juggler is,"

"Well, I appreciate that," she says, "And, thank your Gram for me. I'm Helena Campbell, the young juggler,"

My jaw drops. "No," I say, "You're Codding me! You're a Campbell?!"

She laughs. "Yep," she says, "My mum and dad own the circus,"

The elevator stops, and the doors open. Helena walks out of the elevator, and turns down the hall, opposite to where I have to do.

"I'm Corey, by the way!" I call after her.

"Nice to meet you, Corey," she says, turning around and smiling, "And I've got a question for you,"

"Shoot," I say.

"Are you a girl or a boy?" she asks.

I laugh, "I get that question a lot," I say, "I'm a lad, but some people say that, at times, I act very feminine,"

She laughs. "Well, see you 'round, then?" she says.

"Yeah," I say, waving, "See you 'round,". I turn around, and go into mine and my Gram's apartment. "I'm home, Gram," I say, closing the door behind me.

"Welcome back, Corey," she says, "What are you making for dinner, again?" She's sitting in the kitchen, writing in a news paper. She loves crosswords.

"Steak and colcannon," I say, "Mum...Mum's recipe,"

Gram reaches over to me, and places her hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, Corey," she says, softly, "I know you miss them. I miss them dearly too. You just can't blame yourself for the accident. It was the lorry driver's fault. Not yours. Not your Mum's. Not your Pa's,"

I sniff, nod, and wipe the tears out of my eyes. I take out a small bag of potatoes, and sit across from Gram, peeling them into an old newspaper.

"Corey?" Gram asks, "What's a five letter word for 'dangerous song'?"

"'Siren'," I say, "A siren song would make sailors in old myths crash, and fire sirens alert people to danger,"

"Ah," she says, "Thank you,". She then writes something on the paper.

I start to the cut the potatoes, and put them and water into a pot to boil. I then start to cut leeks and kale, after I put the steaks I bought on the counter. I wait for the water in the pot to boil.

"What's an eleven letter word for 'boring'?" Gram asks.

"'Milquetoast (Milk-toast),'" I say.

"How do you spell that?" she asks.

"M-I-L-Q-U-E-T-O-A-S-T," I say, "Milquetoast,"

"That's a strange spelling," she laughs, "but I believe you,"

I smile, and then stir the potatoes as the water starts a rolling boil. I then grab a pan, and put it on another burner, to cook the steaks. I drain the potatoes, and grab our hand-mixer. I put a pat of butter in the potatoes, and I start to mash them with the mixer.

"What's a fourteen letter word that means 'thrown out of a window'?" Gram asks.

"Defenestration," I say, adding the kale and leeks into the mashed potatoes, "I love that word,"

"Ah," she says, "never would have thought of that,"

I nod, putting one of the steaks onto the pan while pouring a little bit of milk into the colcannon. After the steaks are finished, I serve us dinner, cutting up the steak into small pieces for Gram.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Gram asks me, "Have a job yet?"

"No," I say, "I'm still looking. I was thinking about going down the hall and asking the Campbells if they need any body for heavy-lifting or for the ticket booth or something,"

"What about juggling," Gram says, "You can juggle, right?"

"Yea," I say, smiling, "I can. I...I don't know,"

"You don't know what?" Gram says, "You could juggle with Helena, and whoever the man is,"

I laugh. "I'll find a job, Gram," I say, "Don't worry,"

"You'd better," she says, "I don't want to survive on only colcannon,"

I laugh. After we finish our dinner, we move to the living room, and we watch a movie on TV until Gram falls asleep in her chair. I then help her get to her room, and I close her door.

I go into my room, and get ready to go to sleep. After changing into my pajamas, which are just a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt, I sit on the edge of my bed. I stare at my legs, and feel a tear run down my cheek. I rub my left knee, my only real knee. I undo some the fasteners on the harness of my prosthetic, and I take it off. I set my prosthetic right leg on the ground under my bed. I look at the stump of my leg that was left after the truck accident that took my parents. The scar at the end of it is barely noticeable now, since it's been three years. I can barely remember what it feels like to wiggle my toes on my right foot.

I lay back on my bed, and stare at the ceiling, listening to the rain drum against my window. I'm about to fall asleep when I hear a tapping that sounds different from the rain on the windows. I sit up, confused.

The tapping continues.

I put my prosthetic on, stand up, and look around.

The tapping seems to be coming from my mirror, which confuses me even more.

I walk in front of the mirror, and I gasp. It looks like there is someone behind me, standing at my door. He looks like an old photo of a circus ring-master. I turn around, and no one is there. I look back at the mirror, and the man is closer to me. I lean closer to the mirror, trying to get a better look at the man.

In a blink of my eyes, he's right behind me, smiling with crooked, yellow teeth. His eyes are red, sunken, and bloodshot. He raises his hands.

I gasp as I feel him place his hands on my shoulders, and push me into my mirror. Somehow, I fall through my mirror, and keep falling, hundreds of feet. I land on my back in the dirt, eyes wide open, not able to breath.

Suddenly, air rushes back into my lungs, and I cough. I sit up, and instantly check my prosthesis, making sure it's not damaged. I won't be able to walk otherwise. It seems to be alright. I stand up, and brush dirt off of myself.

"That was one hell of a fall," I hear from behind me, "Are you okay?"

I turn around, and I'm greeted by a very strange looking man. He looks like he's wearing a mask, with the top made to look like spiky "hair". It's like a mask and his face at the same time. He also has a beard piece, like the ones Egyptian pharaohs would wear, on his chin, but it's the same texture as the "hair" of the mask. There is a brown stripe going down his, from between the eye-holes in the mask to his chin. He's wearing a long, cream-colored coat, a dark brown shirt, black pants, and black shoes. He also has and Irish accent.

I rub the back of my head and look up. "I suppose," I say, "I'm not hurt, though, and that's what matters, right? Where am I?"

"You're here," the man says, gesturing to the barren wasteland around us, "Where 'here' is exactly? I've no clue,"

I laugh. "I'm Corey," I say, putting my hand out.

He ignores my hand. "Corey," he says, slowly pronouncing both syllables, "Corey. Corey. That's a good name,"

"Thank you," I say, putting my hand down, "What's yours?"

"Valentine," he says, with a slight bow.

"That's a very nice name," I say, "It sounds like you're a very important man,"

"I am a very important man," he says, "I've got a tower," he then looks up at the sky, and then looks around like he's looking for this tower of his.

I chuckle, and look around. There's absolutely nothing around us except dirt and sand, and a flat horizon. "Well," I say, "let's pick a random direction, start walking that way, and try to find out where 'here' is,"

"That sounds like a good plan," Valentine says.

I nod, and turn to my right, and I start to walk, the dirt crunching under my feet, stones occasionally stabbing my left foot.


	2. The Big Top...

"How long have we been walking?" Valentine calls to me, tired, from a few yards behind.

"No clue," I call back, stopping. I try to pivot on my right foot, and turn to face him, but my ankle joint sticks. There's a weird crunching sound as I try, and I scrunch my eyebrows.  I try to turn again, but my ankle sticks again, and I lose balance, falling forward.

Valentine catches me by my shoulders before I hit the ground. "Woah!" he says, "What happened?". He helps me sit down on the ground.

I cross my legs, and I look at my ankle. My foot is covered in sand, and as I look closer I see that there is even sand in the workings of my ankle joint. "Damnit!" I whisper, "That's not good,"

"What?" Valentine asks.

"There's sand in my ankle," I say, still looking at my leg, "and some in my knee. That's going to make walking a bit more difficult,"

"Well," Valentine says, looking behind me, "At least we're close to something that may actually be helpful,"

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning around. I see a purple and green striped circus tent, not even ten yards from us. "But," I mutter, "I was just looking that way...it wasn't there before..."

"What does it matter?" Valentine says, pulling me up onto my feet, and putting my arm around his shoulders. "Just hop on your good foot, and we'll find some type of oil or lubricant for your ankle when we're there,"

I nod, hopping on my left foot. We walk like this until we reach the circus tent, and Valentine sits me on a crate inside the tent. I look around at the inside of the tent, since it seems to be bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. The ceiling of the tent is obscured by shadows, and the bleachers for the audience is completely void of any sign of people _ever_ being there.

"Here," Valentine says, walking back over to me with an oil can in hand, "I found this. It should help,"

I take it, and smile. "Here's to hoping..." I say, and I start putting the oil on the ankle-joint. I place my foot on the ground, and stand up. I start moving my ankle around, and, after a bit, the crunching stops. "That's much better," I say, walking around in a circle.

"Now…" Valentine says, "Where are we?".

"No clue," I say.

"Valentine?" we hear someone call from across the tent.

We both turn to see a young girl in white pajamas running toward us. She's smiling wide.

"Helena?" Valentine whispers, "Helena!" he says louder as he starts toward her. 

They meet almost directly in the middle of the tent, and they hug. It's just a quick hug, but you can tell they know one another, and they've missed each other.

"How are you here?" Helena asks.

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" Valentine laughs. 

I clear my throat loudly, to see if they forgot I was here.

"Corey?" Helena asks, and then she laughs, "Looks like we're all in this together!"

"Ugh," we hear from across the tent, "I hate heartwarming reunions,". The person who was talking sounds kind of like Helena, just…sassier.

I turn to see a girl that looks almost exactly like Helena, just wearing black pajamas instead of white. She looks like she hates everything about the universe.

"And…who are you, lass?" I ask her.

Valentine looks like me, and makes a motion to try to stop me from talking. Helena makes the same face, motioning with her fingers at her neck. I just shrug at them, amaking a confused face.

"I'm The Princess of Darkness," she says, like it's common knowledge.

"Well," I say, "That's not a proper name. What do I call you, Princess?"

She looks at me with such disgust on her face I can almost smell it.

"Well," I say, "You look like Helena, so how about…Not-Helena? No, that's stupid…erm…how about Amaris…or Regina. Amaris means 'child of the moon' and Regina means 'royal', or something like that,"

Not-Helena scrunches her nose less, and thinks for a bit. "I like Amaris. You can call me that,"

"Alright," I say, "Do you know where we are, Amaris?"

"No," she say, "I'm stuck here, the same as you,"

"Well that's grand," Helena says, throwing her hands in the air, "We're stuck with Little Miss 'Nearly Destroyed My Own Dimension'!"

"Yeah, like I want to be around you," Amaris yells, "You foiled my plan for a perfect life!"

"'Perfect'?!" Helena yells back, "You nearly ruined  _my_ life! And I nearly died because of your Mother, and I was nearly killed by you tearing up the pictures!"

I step between them, "LADIES!" I shout, and they go quiet, "This is getting out of hand. We need to work _together_ to get out of here,"

Amaris huffs, and crosses her arms, turning away from me.

"Alright," Helena says, begrudgingly. She was looking at her feet after I yelled, and apparently she looked at my feet. Her eyes are opened wide in surprise. "Corey," she says quietly.

"Yes?" I ask.

"You…your foot," she says, pointing, "…is…is your leg…"

"Fake?" I say, "Yes. I lost it three years ago, in a car accident. I've gotten used to my leg, I forgot that you didn't know, since I was wearing jeans when we met,"

Helena nods. "I'm…I'm sorry," she mutters, "I heard from my Dad that…your parents…they…well, they didn't survive the crash,"

I nod. "That's right," I say, quietly, "that's why I live with my Gram,"

Helena nods again. "I'm sorry…" she mutters again.

I turn around, and see Valentine just…staring at me. "I…" he starts.

"You don't need to say anything," I say.

"But…" he starts, "…eh, never mind,"

I nod. I then turn around, and, looking around at the tent again, start walking forward. "Let's find out where we are," I say, "And then figure out how to get home,"

"Is that your solution to everything?" Valentine says, "Pick a direction and start walking, hoping that you'll find what you're looking for?"

"Yep," I say, "It usually works,". I continue to walk until I reach another canvas door. It leads to another tent, exactly like the one we were just in. "What the..?" I mutter, and I turn around. I go out the canvas door, and all I see is the wasteland we were in before. "Wait," I say, "Hold up. What?"

Valentine seems equally confused. "But…" he says, "…we just came from there. How?"

Helena, on the other hand, is acting kind of weird. "What?" she asks, laughing, as she walks into the middle of the tent, under a skylight in the roof of the tent, "Is it too strange, too…confusing for you?"

I turn around, and I look at her, confused. "What are you going on about, Helena?" I ask, but I notice something strange.

"Of course it's strange!" Valentine says, "I would be, and am, worried if I walked in one door, and came out on the other side of the room, but can't come back the same way!"

"Valentine," I mutter, nudging him, "Look,"

He glances at me as I point to Helena's feet.

"Yeah," he says, "She has two shadows…two shadows?"

As she stands there, one dark figure, identical to her stretches on the ground behind her, while another dark figure, that looks nothing like her, stretches on the ground next to her.

"Blimey," Amaris says, but it seems that she can't help but smile.

Then, as we watch, the figure next to Helena rises from the ground, turning into a solid figure from inky blackness. His coat turns a bright, blood-like red, his skin a plaster like pale, his hat and pants, the same inky black as the shadow he once was. He smiles his crooked tooth smile, and I recognize him as the man who pushed me through the mirror. When he's fully materialized, Helena drops down in a dead fate.

"Helena!" Valentine yelps, and he starts toward her, but I stop him. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"I don't think we should stay away from him," I mutter, staring at the man from the shadow.

The man laughs. "She'll be fine," he says, "My name is the Ring Master, and I would like to welcome you to my circus, where your worst nightmares become reality!"  


End file.
